


X5-498

by RiverRunningFree



Category: Dark Angel (TV)
Genre: Alec First Person, Alec McDowell Fanfiction, Captured Alec, Dark Angel Fanfiction, Dark Angel Series, F/M, Hurt Alec, Injured Alec, Kidnapped alec, Manticore, Manticore Rebuilt, No MA, POV First Person, Reader Focused in the Beginning, Reader Insert, Reader is an X5, i am horrible at tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 09:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverRunningFree/pseuds/RiverRunningFree
Summary: So, I noticed that there is a sad lacking in Reader/Alec fics… and I'm here to supply. Reader is an X5 (X5-498), and she never escaped Manticore because she was at another facility. Manticore was not completely destroyed, even though everyone thought it was. Reader runs into Alec after he is captured by Manticore... and... yeah. I can't do summaries. Adventure ensues.. Fighting, Kissing...Just go read it.





	1. Welcome to Me

Cold. It was cold…...and hard.

As I felt myself slowly regaining consciousness those two thoughts remained prominent in my mind as all my other senses came flooding in. It was like sifting through a quicksand of black fog that had filled up all the little spaces in my brain. It is rather relaxing though.

I reluctantly began to tune in to the noises from the crowded street that I was laying, apparently, face-down on. People were still yelling loudly from the previous commotion, what that had been was still a mite fuzzy. So many voices shouting at the same time…. _Come on people, diplomacy. Calm, sensible diplomacy. Why is this such a foreign concept?_ I lay there listening for a few more seconds, _Then again, people don’t really solve anything calmly these days....ever…._

I finally stopped focusing on the voices and became aware of the wet pavement my face was laying on…. That must be where the hard part came from. I was pretty sure there was gravel mixed into my hair and probably little pieces stuck under my eye. _Why need under eye concealer when you have the latest thing in fashion??? Black-eyes and trippy gravel!_

Suddenly, the slight whiff of sewage was reaching into my nostrils. I sneezed. Wish that bit had just stayed foggy. I inhaled tentatively once more. More sewage, probably caused by the long-failed sewer system acting up again, but now with a hint of….warm?....ah. Pretzels. Right. There was probably a vendor somewhere nearby. Pretzels had become the equivalent of ice cream ever since the majority of the cows had died of disease and dairy had been permanently put into short supply. There was probably some random law somewhere forbidding the production of ice cream since it was much more useful as milk…. _Not that it really matters. No one pays attention to laws hardly at all anymore…_ I couldn’t help smirking to myself _Laws? Eh….more like guidelines._

Next step… _Open my eyes? Do I have to? Really? The dark was so comfortable though._ I sighed and gathered up the enormous amount of strength necessary to flick open my eyelids.

Light.

Light everywhere.

Light from the sun. Light reflecting off the fresh piles of snow and ice (that’s the cold part). Light shining off the twisted pieces of random bits of metal strewn about and piled in odd places. Just. Light.

That was actually the most surprising part. Not only because it is hardly ever “sunny” period, but also because I could have sworn that it was nighttime when I had gotten knocked out.

I reached up to the back of my head and felt the sticky, slightly clotted, bloody gash that supported my theory. _Wonderful. Peachy. But hey, red always was my color._

Dropping the minor Triage session, I snapped myself back into alert mode. I glanced quickly at my surroundings, taking in the rioters still going full-force even though they had probably been out in this cold for at least 12 hours now. Rioters. Right.

The last of the fog was clearing away from my ever-sharpening mind as last night’s events came flooding back in.

I had been on a mission. Target had been successfully eliminated and I was en route for debriefing when two, still not one hundred percent certain, associates of the target had ambushed me while pacing briskly through an alley to my parked motorcycle. _I really should stop with short-cuts. It never ends well._ After ten minutes of the “James Bond style action sequence”, a third associate joined in and I had no option but to run. The only fault in my escape had been running straight through a crowd of pissed-off rioters (maybe the lack of ice cream finally got to them). I’ll admit, not my best decision. But, even though in the end I accidently got taken down by a badly-aimed piece of lead piping, I did manage to escape my attackers. AND the target had been eliminated after all. So… lobster and steak time?

While taking in my surrounding environment, I had noticed I a whole-in-the-wall coffee shop...literally. The plaster walls were crumbling to pieces and it was no longer necessary to use the door as the only entrance into the fine establishment. _Meh. That’ll do_. I dusted myself off, ignoring the wet spots that the snow patches had left on my clothes. Giving up on my appearance, I briskly walked across the street into the ramshackle building (praying the roof didn’t decide on that moment to fall in).

"Coffee, black."  
(It’s not that I have something against sugary flavoring, it’s just that, well…. trust me, you don’t want to venture past straight black).  
I grab my coffee and head out. Just as I reached the street my thigh starts vibrating. _Crap, I forgot to check-in._ I reached into my pocket for the buzzing phone, dreading talking to the person on the other side. I held the phone in my hand and just stared at it for a moment, the vibrating sounds ringing through my ears. Handlers. I hated that title. I’m not some kind of animal, I don’t need handlers.

But that was just the problem, wasn’t it? In their I eyes, I was an animal. Well, at least not a human… That’s the problem with being genetically engineered in a secret government facility. People just don’t look at you the same… I sighed and let the phone ring once more for good measure.

*buzz* Alright, let’s get this over with. “Yes?”  
“X5- 498?”  
“Yes, Sir.”  
“Why are you not in your designated extraction point X5-498?”  
“I am on my way in now, Sir. I will report on the reasoning for my being detained on my return.”  
“Any immediate knowledge I should know?”  
“No, Sir.” I stated confidently. Any sort of pausing or hesitation would have indicated some sort of issue or problem. A lie. And I was too good at lying to make such rookie mistakes….Not that I was lying right now…  
“Good. Get back immediately.” *click*.

This time I sighed with my whole body joining in the effort. _Man, I hate my life._ I scoffed. _Life? Who am I kidding? I don’t have a life. I don’t have anything. I am a tool. I am used for missions. A piece of machinery._ I sucked all the air back into my lungs. _A weapon_.

I downed the last of my coffee (extra strength), tossed the empty cup into the nearby pile of garbage, and headed back to where I had parked my motorcycle last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was kind of just for introducing the main character. I wanted you guys to get a better understanding of her personality. Alec will be in the next chapter, I PROMISE!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alec is in this one....I swear....bare with me..

I love my motorcycle.

I don’t think I could love any person as much as I love my motorcycle. The Notebook hasn’t got anything on me and my bike. His (Yes, It’s a guy) large black frame allows me to comfortably stretch out my long limbs. The firey red I added to the handlebars and seat gives him an attitude and hotrod feel that always gives me some adrenaline on my more fast-paced missions.  
I picked him up on a mission one time in Vegas. Snatch and grab job that ended up needing a quick getaway. I remembered sprinting out the backdoor of the museum with a dozen security guards and angry patrons in black suits and red dresses hot on my trail. Flying through the door, I at once saw him, just parked there, (probably belonged to one of the patrons) and well… like I said, I needed a quick getaway.

I can’t even give a list of how many times that motorcycle has saved my life. _That’s probably why I started calling him Arch…. As in Archangel. A little weird, I know. But trust me, it suits him._

I felt a grin spread across my face as I whipped through the narrow streets, wind screaming past my ears and through my hair. “Freeeeeedom is aliiiive! Aaand I know, how it feels!” Yes, I’m a genetically engineered soldier….who likes to sing….so what? “It’s a new dawn! It’s a new day! It’s a new liiiiiiife! Forrr meeee…. And i feeeeel…..gooooood.” For just a brief moment, I can forget about my lot in life. I can forget that I’ve never had friends or family. Heck, I can even forget that I’m not even human! Just wind and Arch and unbelievable speed!

I loved moments like this. Outside of the “Facility”. Not technically on a mission. No statistics needed to memorize, no “target” to think about, no nothing. Freedom. For the three hours it took to return back to the Facility, at least.

\-------------------

My freedom, as always, never lasted long enough. The ride signaled its end when the country mountain road opened into the vast abandoned stone quarry, now repurposed into the Facility Of Genetic Transformation And Engineering, a.k.a. The Facility…. The rebirth of Manticore…

Manticore was where I had been made. Me and all the other transgenics. We had been trained to be soldiers since birth. Even after the Pulse in 2006, when the whole world decided to break down, Manticore had kept on going. Thriving even. They continued to send us out on missions. Sometimes half-way across the world. Working with foreign governments, secret societies, and many other shady undergrounds.

Sometimes we were sent out in units, or sometimes solo. My first time outside was an infiltration mission in Kazakhstan: I was ten years old.

After Manticore burned to the ground in 2021, they rebuilt themselves into this organization. Most of the transgenics had escaped in the fire…. Some of us hadn’t been so lucky….

*THUMP*

I snapped back to reality as my bike began going over the rough terrain for the entry to the Facility. _Back to the real world soldier. Enough with the reminiscing. Chick-flick over_. I swerved my way through the gray concrete buildings making my way to the garage.

After parking Arch in my normal spot, I briskly strode towards headquarters for my debrief session. The sun was hot and bearing down mercilessly on my scalp and shoulders. Really shouldn’t have worn all black today… The loose gravel under my boots crunch rhythmically in time to my footsteps. I could hear a group of transgenics being drilled farther down the road, most likely doing routine conditioning before an assignment.

As I approached the main building in the center of the complex, I could almost feel the atmosphere tightened and become rigid as the air of authority intensified. I tried suppressing the flashbacks that this environment triggered. No matter how many times I came back here, the bad memories from both Manticore and the Facility always sprang to mind.

Before I could get too wrapped up in my own past, however, I stepped into the large open headquarters hub. The icy-cool air conditioning beared down on me and my ear prickled. The buzzing din from the numerous voices of my colleagues blended together into a hive-like humming.

I made a quick sweep of the enormous room and immediately picked out my commanding officer, and started striding towards him. Stupid handlers…

“Ah! 498. It’s about time you decided to make an appearance.” My broad-shouldered commander scowled down at me with his typical gleem of annoyance.

“I’m sorry Sir. There were some unforeseen complications….but i handled it. Mission was successful.” I mumbled, keeping my eyes straight ahead. I didn’t really feel like being a smart-ass today. My head still hurt.

“498. Do you really think it is acceptable to offer up excuses for a complication?....to me?” The commander was in an unforgiving mood today… wonderful. “You better stop running into complications on your missions. Otherwise, we might have to… reprogram you… again.” I pursed my lips and looked down trying to ignore the mix of panic and anger rising up. “Report to Dr. Liemit to get that head-wound patched up. I expect your report on my desk at 0500 hours tomorrow morning.”

“Yes Sir.”

I turned sharply on my heel and headed down a nearby corridor. _Stupid handler…. Stupid… CONTROLLING, handler…._ I wasn’t a piece of machinery that they could just scrub clean and start over. They didn’t seem to get that though. A shiver went down my spine as I thought back to PsyOps: the “reprogramming” center for the X’s. _The stuff they did with your brain…_

I set my shoulders and took a left down another corridor. You’re fine. It’s fine. If they ever send me back there...I’ll survive. Like I always do. Man, this place sucked.

\---------------------------------------

Dr. Liemit was bustling around the med bay with his four attendees and numerous nurses when I finally decided to show up. I’ll be honest with you, I may have walked a bit slowly….. I don’t like doctors.

“Hey Doc! How’s it cooking? Get any nice busted and bloodied victims today?”

The doctor looked up at me and scowled. My forced cheeky grin never did seemed to agree with him.

“What is it now X5-498? Did someone finally hand you a debilitating blow?” The mocking hope in his in the middle aged man’s tone dissipated after a quick glance over my body showed no excessive blood splatters or wounds.

“Nah, no such luck. Just a mild concussion with some of the red stuff leaking a bit.” This tall, skinny dodo had no authority over my division. I knew it, and he knew it. Ergo, there was never any respect present in our conversations.

“Sit down. I’ll be with you at some point.”

“You’re too kind Doc.” Arrogant dodo…

 

I made my way over to an empty examination bed, stretching out over it and making myself comfortable. At least, as comfortable as one can be when in the den of the ‘needle-pokers’. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to slip into a light nap…. _The doc wasn’t going to be coming my way any time soon anyways…._

\-----------------

*CRASH!*

I snapped my eyes open. What the hell…

“Hold him down!”  
“Give him the freaking sedative already!”  
“Calm down soldier!”

*CRASH*

“Geez, dude! Doc, hurry up with that sedative!”  
“You’re only going to get yourself more hurt kid, so CALM DOWN.”

Clearly whoever they were talking to wasn’t listening because the yelling and loud noises from knocking over medical equipment didn’t let up. So I decided I better jump in. Sitting up cautiously, I swung my legs off the bed. Doc would probably write me up for not helping. I swiftly pulled back the heavy curtain that had cut off my view from the rest of the room.

What the hell….

I could feel my eyes go wide at the scene before me as my brain began to process what was going on. There were about four X6 guards in the room now, in addition to the many medical staff that were there before. Tables were turned over, medical instruments strewn about. At least three of the guards had some form of injury. Everyone was covered in blood, from both themselves and someone else.

Someone else. My eyes focused on the source of the whole problem. A young man. Probably 22 or 23 years old with short, dirty blonde, crew-cut hair. He was moving so fast amidst the confusion and tangle of limbs that it was impossible to distinguish any other notable features.

Just then one of the guards was thrown across the room, resulting in another loud crash and some substiquent groaning from that end of the room.

Alright, enough’s enough.

I started stalking toward the blurring figure, analyzing his animalistic fighting pattern. I could tell he was starting to get the upper hand on the other X’s. He was clearly transgenic, probably X5, based on his technique. This is going to be fun. Even for an X5, it was obvious that he was exceptional in the fighting area.

I took one last confident step, inserting myself into the fray. Grabbing his left wrist, just before the attached fist could dislocate an X6’s jaw. Before he could react, I swiftly twisted my body to pin his arm behind his back, then swept a foot to the ankles and brought his feet out from under him, bringing him to his knees. I could feel him beginning an action of retaliation, so I brought my knee up hard into his back, smacking his face into the cold tiled floor.

“What the f…!” The muffled voice muttered underneath me.

I thought that would be it. Usually, when an X-series bests another X, that is it. Game over. Submit. Well…. apparently not with this guy...

I felt a quick twist and suddenly it was my face being slammed into the floor. I struggled for a moment, and then managed to reach behind me, grabbed his arm and flipped him over my head, immediately rolling to my feet. As I brought myself up to standing, he did the same opposite of me. It was at this point that I was finally able to get a good look at my opponent.

 _Damn_. My eyes traced up his body, systematically sizing him up, while he did the same to me. The guy was probably at least 6’ 1”, with a lean yet muscular frame. His pectorals and broad shoulders pressing against the tattered black t-shirt he was wearing. His fists were clenching and unclenching in a rhythmic manner as he shifted into an attack-mode stance. Every muscle in his body seemed tight and taught, ready to spring at any moment.

Then I saw the blood. _Crap._ It was everywhere. Covering his torso, smeared on his arms, dripping down his face. Splatters on his pants. The source seemed to come mainly from the long gash in his side, in addition to the numerous minor injuries that littered his body. How is this kid even standing? Even though he was severely injured, aside from a slight hunch inwards, the mystery assailant had perfect form in his stance. Subtly, his heavy breathing slowed down slightly to match my own.

I finally lifted my gaze from his body to meet his eyes…. _wow_ ….

The intensity of his vibrant green eyes made him appear almost wild. Animalistic. Raw. Open and on display for all to see. And wow, was that intimidating. One single look…. And the challenge was initiated.

I vaguely became aware of the guards and medical staff backing away slowly. Everyone knew that when a powerful alpha challenged another alpha…. Best just to get out of the way.

The panther DNA in me caused me to involuntarily intensify and harden my own gaze to meet his, baring my teeth: CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

For a moment, there was total silence. Then my opponent imited a low growl… and lept.

The rest was history. A vague notion of blurring limbs and constant swapping between offense and defense. Kicking, punching, jumping, and flips. It was all out war. Sweat began to drip from my forehead, running down my neck. His eyes seemed to dull slightly from the obvious pain and blood loss. But neither of us let up.

For every hit was a strong block. For every attempt of an exploitation of weakness, there was a wall of China in defense. It felt like hours that this impasse went on, yet in reality it only lasted a few minutes.

Just as I was beginning to think we would be in this violent symphony till the end of time, my mystery opponent suddenly jerked stiff, freezing all movement. Then in an instant he was on the ground jerking and shaking spastically. As he twitched his back to me, I finally got a glance of the taser wires imbedded into his shoulder blades.

I stared down at him ruefully then shot a heated glare at the panicked medic who held the other end of the taser, shock all over his features.

I pushed away the pain of guilt for the injustice of the move. Quickly removing all sympathy for the boy on the floor, I put my attention back towards the doctor.

“Will you sedate him now?” I spat at the doc.

He ducked his head and scampered off to a still-standing medicine cabinet.

Sighing, I quickly made my way out of the med bay. I couldn’t get back to my room fast enough, concussion totally forgotten. I slammed the door behind me and started pacing.  
What the hell was that?! Who was that kid?? What the hell is going on?

His moves had been so precise. It was easy to see the technique and animalistic desperation in his attacks. Yet at the same time, fighting with him felt more like a dance. A deadly dance at that.

I hated fighting other X’s. It felt as though I was raging war on my own family. Screw The Facility. I hate being enslaved to those bastards, making me fight my own kind.

It had all happened so fast, but yet the experience was akin to hours in my mind. I wasn’t sure why this strange experience was throwing me so much. Maybe it was because I was tired of it all, and suddenly I felt alive and awake again just from that one encounter…

I froze my steps and took a deep breath. Get a handle on it soldier. I ran a hand through my hair and breathed. Then I paused. _Why am I feeling admiration for this guy? He’s clearly an enemy of The Facility…._ I laughed humorously. _Yeah. And you’re such a big fan of them too._

I sighed once more for good measure and flopped down on my bed. Running a hand through my hair, I let out a deep exhale. _Who was that guy?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter will be First Person for Alec... I think.  
> LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKE IT!


End file.
